


and a bag of chips

by chaospitals (hardscrabble)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 05:30:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18793969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardscrabble/pseuds/chaospitals
Summary: TJ's got drunchies, man.





	and a bag of chips

**Author's Note:**

> because [this incredibly cursed photo](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/D6T8XwuWsAEnePx.jpg) exists.

It was really just a matter of time after TJ yanked him into his lap in the middle of a fucking party. However, Johnny wanted it _known_ that he was not going without a goddamn fight.

“We’re not making out!”

“Might as well be,” said some asshole. He sounded way too sober.

“You kinda are, like, all up on each other,” one girl observed helpfully.

“Not on purpose” was the weakest possible thing Johnny could say, but _TJ dragged me here_ wasn’t any better, and _it’s a comfy seat_ would just make them all worse. Although it was. A comfy seat. Hockey ass was good padding. Hockey ass on hockey thighs was better.

TJ pounded the rest of his beer—he looked fucking dumb, Johnny thought, with the terrible bleach-blond mop cut going everywhere and the drunk flush high on his cheeks—and said, “We’re not making out _without incentive_.” Which, considering how crisply he enunciated “incentive,” was honestly kind of impressive, except—

“Oh, fuck you, Leif.”

“Beer,” said the first asshole.

TJ dismissed that with a wave. “Boring.”

Some frosh d-man said, “Five bucks.” Probably all he had on him.

“Fuck _that_ ,” said Johnny.

“Yeah, dude, we’re worth more than that. This’d be _quality entertainment_.”

The girl who had so kindly reminded the entire party that Johnny was, in fact, sitting in TJ’s lap said, “Order you pizza.”

TJ looked at him for that one, eyes narrowed in consideration, which was weird, but Johnny was sort of starting to come around to playing this. He might even admit it was funny. “Ya think?”

“Delivery takes fuckin’ years,” said Johnny, dragging his eyes away. “Instant gratification for cold pizza? Fuck that too.”

“These,” yelled some other asshole at the back of the room, and lobbed an unopened bag of Lays at them. The asshole had pretty good aim, though; the bag collided with TJ’s shoulder, crunching, and TJ _beamed_.

“Oh, _fuck_ yeah.”

“ _Chips?_ Dude, you’re fucking—That is _not_ an equivalent exchange!”

“My _favorite_ chips. I got _drunchies_ , man.”

They were just barbecue-flavor. And crushed. And yet, against TJ’s puppy eyes—how the fuck does a dude get eyes that big, what kind of—there was no logical counterargument. “God. Whatever.”

“Terms,” TJ bellowed, suddenly enough that Johnny startled. “How long?”

“Thirty seconds,” the girl suggested. “With tongue.”

TJ glanced at Johnny, and Johnny couldn’t come up with any reasons why _not_ , so he sighed. “Yeah, fine.”

“ _Fuck_ yeah,” said TJ, and grabbed his face in both hands.

Altogether it was kind of like being attacked by a super friendly golden retriever who’d gotten into a brewery. TJ kissed with abandon, tongue and lips working—not, like, _toward_ anything, but there was a lot going on. Someone fucking wolf-whistled, because of course they did. TJ’s hands were holding him in place, so Johnny grabbed back and reciprocated, because it might as well be a _pleasant_ thirty seconds. He got a little bossy, forcing TJ to kind of calm down and stop trying to actually lick Johnny’s tonsils, or whatever he was after, and then it was just fucking _nice_ , really, a solid nine out of ten as far as kissing went. TJ’s face was hot beneath his fingers, and Johnny slid his hand up into his stupid crispy-blond hair and considered maybe biting a—

“ _Thirty_ ,” TJ yelled, pulling away, and Johnny’s hand dropped.

Shit. He hadn’t even been counting. _Shit_.

TJ crowed, “Chips are _mine_ , bitches.”

“Ours, asshole,” said Johnny loudly over the fucking _applause_ of the room, and shoved TJ in the shoulder. Definitely not feeling his face go hot. Forgetting to fucking _count?_

With a nod and a grin, TJ amended at the top of his voice, “Chips are _ours_ , bitches.” Then he yanked the bag open, and of course they fucking went everywhere, but he’d _forgotten_ to fucking count, what the fuck—

Still, getting the chip fragments off his _entire person_ was a good reason to get off TJ’s lap, at least, and everything was totally chill by the time they were headed out. Drunk, but chill. Super chill. And Johnny hadn’t even let slip that he hadn’t been counting.

Which he realized he said out loud when TJ _looked_ at him, as the door to their dorm fell shut behind them. The stairwell was quiet, this late—late enough it was basically early—and TJ smiled with his stupid lopsided face and horrible hair and said, “Dude, I was just hungry.”

And kissed him again, quick and almost sweet, and said, “Later, man,” and headed up the stairs, taking his hockey ass and his awful bleach job with him.

**Author's Note:**

> say hi on [tumblr](http://chaospitals.tumblr.com/) if you want!


End file.
